


just tell me how it's lookin' babe

by phanetixs



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, References to bullying, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanetixs/pseuds/phanetixs
Summary: Jeff looks on, partly smug and partly in disgust at the way Dan’s sucking on Phil's ear now, and across his jaw.“Mm,” Dan rumbles. “You taste so good, Phil.”(Or, dealing with your ex-bullies the right way.)
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	just tell me how it's lookin' babe

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this to distract myself from all the bad things in the world...and it spun wildly out of control. i haven't written slice of life fics in a long time, so this was fun! enjoy :)
> 
> \- to clarify the tags, there's no violence. just dnp trying to deal with an asshole creatively ;)

Phil’s not visited Wokingham all too much in the past ten years. 

He can count four, maybe five, times that he’s been home with Dan, and even then, they’re mostly rushed day trips to visit Dan’s family. Those are more performative trips than anything else - the _yes-we’re-still-together_ kind of trips that sometimes have Dan’s extended family averting their eyes in disapproval. They’re used to it, though, and Phil’s family loves in leaps and bounds to plug any leaking spaces that are left.

But the point is: Phil doesn’t quite know his way around the life Dan had before him. Before that first trip down to Manchester, the views and luxury flats. He doesn’t know where Dan had his first kiss, or where his grammar school was. The only old friends he meets of Dan’s are the ones who live in London now. 

Phil knows it’s a touchy subject most days, so he doesn’t pry. He waits, waits, until Dan feels safe enough to divulge any of those bitter things he keeps close to his chest. Phil smiles furtively to himself when Dan mentions things about Wokingham in passing - like a car his grandfather used to own, or a type of ice cream he used to buy after school, the type of body soap he had as a kid. Phil sometimes treasures those little pockets of information greater than any grand gesture of romance. Knowing they come few and far between, Phil isn’t about to let those go anytime soon.

They’re in Wokingham during the Easter weekend. 

Initially, Dan hadn’t wanted to come down - too much family, he said - but since his coming out, they’ve been making more of an effort to normalise their relationship a bit. No more pretence, especially with family - Dan visits now with less tense shoulders and a bigger smile, tells his mum about the queer fiction book he’s writing and the podcast he’s working on with Phil. He tells his dad how difficult it was growing up poor and gay in this town but that he’s stronger because of it. 

It’s easier now and Phil’s thankful they’ve gotten to the point where he can confidently say that he would have supportive in-laws, when the time comes. A second family.

+

Old acquaintances, on the other hand, are a bit harder to deal with.

They’re in Asda on Easter day.

“Is this the same Asda you got fired from?” Phil asks amusedly when they pull up in front of the store. Dan drives, of course, because he claims Phil would commit manslaughter if he’s ever behind the wheel. Phil begrudgingly agrees.

Dan looks at him decidedly _un_ amusedly. “You joke but this was a traumatising place, ok? The last time I remember being here I puked.”

“Is that before or after you got fired?” Phil asks, laughing.

Dan shrugs. “More like throughout.”

They make their way inside the dilapidated building, pushing a rusty trolley. The first aisle they venture into - though it’s not much of an aisle as it is a cramped walkway - is the one with the produce. They snicker through it: Dan picks up a limp vegetable and whispers, “Your dick after I ride you,” and Phil points at some broccoli and says simply, “Your hair.” Phil’s not sure how they manage it in the midst of the banter but they do pick up the cucumber and cauliflower needed for Dan’s salad lunch - since there was _technically_ no way to make his mum’s roast chicken any sort of vegan - and they swiftly head for the sweets row: where their true passions lay. 

While they’re sorting through the various types of biscuits, Phil notices a man hovering at the edge of his vision, by the row of marmalade. There isn’t anything suspicious about it per se, but he keeps taking quick glances at Dan, who’s busy looking for anything oatmeal. 

See, Phil’s used to this, too. The way more men come up to Dan now when they’re doing the shopping, when they’re having a beer at the local pub with Bryony. Though Dan pretty much _implied_ him and Phil are together, he hadn’t explicitly said it - something they both agreed on - out loud.

Still, Phil bristles when he feels eyes on him and Dan again. He takes the space to Dan’s left and mumbles, “Bee.”

It’s their code word for when they spot potential fans, and then take two measured steps away from each other. Here’s no different: they back away from each other and Dan takes a wild look around him. Dan pauses when he notices the man, and Phil quickly sees his face pale, his fingers tremble around a pack of biscuits. 

“ _Dan_ ,” Phil whispers worriedly. “What happened?”

“Fuck,” Dan curses, ditching whatever’s in his hand into the trolley, practically speeding down the aisle. Even when he hears the call of “Dan! Dan!” behind him from both Phil and the mystery man, he doesn’t slow down. 

Phil knows there’s no point stopping Dan when he’s like this when he’s scared and nervous and in his head. He cuts off the man behind him instead. 

“ _Who_ are you?” he asks, as murderously as he possibly can. Dan’s usually the one who’s brave enough to “cut a bitch” if he has to, but Phil’s rage, on the rare occasion it appears, is thunderous.

“I - I,” the man stutters unhelpfully.

“My _boyfriend_ ,” he says pointedly, “took one look at your face and ran in the other direction. You’re going to have to do better than that.”

The man visibly gulps. He twists the ring on his pointer finger. “I knew Dan from school,” he says, like a guilty confession. “I’m Jeff.”

He doesn’t recognise the name from the times Dan’s spoken about his school friends, which leads Phil to think he wasn’t a _friend_ at all. In fact, judging from the way Dan reacted, Phil would wager the opposite. “Say, a friend? Nice friend you must’ve been for Dan to have run like that, hm?” his fingers flex involuntarily in anger.

“ _Mate_ ,” the man says placatingly, and Phil almost snarls, “I just wanted to say hi, yeah? No harm done.”

Phil’s body goes rigid. “Yeah, no harm compared to the times you kicked Dan around in school, 'm guessing? What else did you do - call him a fag, punch his stomach a coupla’ times?” The man flinches and Phil’s proven right. 

The man stays quiet. There’s sudden movement behind Phil and Dan reappears, cheeks red. Phil so desperately wants to gather him in his arms, to drive them home (very, very slowly to prevent any accidents) and cuddle Dan in their bed and forget the world exists for awhile. It’s been a good tactic, especially in the years when they were fighting about _and_ for a life together, and now they have a bit of time before lunch for that to happen.

Dan, though, seems to have other plans. “Oh, hey, Jeff,” Dan says, all fake cordial and smiles. “How’ve you been?” 

Jeff smiles nervously, twisting his fingers behind his back. “Hey, Dan, back home for long?”

Dan laughs, placing a palm on Phil’s chest. “Yeah, both came down for Easter. Gonna go back to London soon...back to our million pound flat.”

 _Ah_ , Phil thinks, chuckling under his breath, _that’s_ his boy.

“That’s _great_ ,” Jeff replies snidely, clearly rearing up for something. “Didn’t know being a twink online pays so well.” 

At that, Phil lets out a shaky breath, steps forward like he’s about to pounce. The fucker probably deserves the broken nose coming his way - for today and all the yesterdays he’s hurt the man Phil loves. Dan, though, holds him back with a smirk. Dan kisses his ear, something that rarely ever happens where other people can see and places a firm hand on Phil’s fist. 

“Mm, a twink, hey? You like that?”

Jeff looks on, partly smug and partly in disgust at the way Dan’s sucking on Phil’s ear now, and across his jaw.

“Mm,” Dan rumbles. “You taste so good, Phil.”

Phil looks at him, surprise written all over his face. He knows that they don’t engage in anything remotely sexual in public, unless it’s dark and sobriety is a forgotten concept. They are always, _always_ wary of cameras: hidden phones and security footage. Part of being closeted is the reflexive way Phil pushes Dan’s palm away from his crotch and tries to fend off the biting kisses to his neck. 

Phil hisses anxiously into his ear, “ _What are you doing_?”

“Please trust me on this,” Dan says into his ear, continuing his advances. Dan knows which of Phil’s buttons to push because that’s it, isn’t it: Phil trusts Dan irrevocably. Dan could steal all his money one day for whatever reason and Phil would still find it in himself to forgive him. The same way he finds it in himself now to continue on with this charade, to push himself into Dan’s solid body and gasp when Dan sucks hard at his throat.

“Wha- what?” Jeff finally says, just as Dan looks ready to unzip Phil’s jeans and sit on his cock right there and then. “Go to hell,” he comments weakly. 

Dan lifts his face then. Gives Jeff a wink. “Meet you there, babe.”

Phil looks confusedly between them as Dan and his tormentor share prolonged eye contact. No, wait, that’s not true. Dan’s looking south of Jeff’s eyes, down to where - 

_Oh_ , Phil laughs into his palm. _Checkmate._

Jeff seems to shake out of it then, covering his front as he races out of the shop - like he’s being chased by a hound dog. He almost bumps into the bread rack on his way out, and the security guards actually think he’s an escaping thief, so they go after him as well. 

Dan breaks first, cackling so loudly Phil’s sure the building shakes. “What the _fuck_!!” Dan exclaims, teary-eyed from laughter. “I didn’t think that’d work!”

Phil, who’s still _very_ confused and also _very_ amused, first takes Dan into a massive hug, cameras be damned. He pulls back. “Please explain to me. Very carefully. What just happened,” he says, wiping away some of Dan’s tears.

Dan kisses him fondly. “Later,” he promises with a bright smile. They straighten up. “Chop, chop, bitch. We’ve got some shopping to do.”

+

They’re in bed much, _much_ later, bellies full from lunch and a sandwich dinner on the train home.

“I know gays, Phil. My gaydar is very accurate,” Dan brags as Phil replays that morning’s events over again in his head. “That arsehole practically salivated when I kissed you, did you see!!” (Phil _didn’t_ see - he was too busy trying to not get hard in a supermarket.) Dan practically vibrates with excitement. “Damn, we’re hot enough to burn homophobia, who knew?”

They laugh for a bit.

Phil waits until Dan calms down a bit to ask, “But you’re ok though?” Because Dan did run away initially. Because when Dan’s very happy, he tends to get equally as sad quickly after. It’s something Dan’s been working on in therapy, trying to acknowledge his accomplishments without the depression weighing them down. 

Dan turns to him, a soft smile on his face. “I’m amazing, Phil. Hah.”

Phil says, “Tell me why?”

Dan sighs, takes time to collect his thoughts. “I’ve built them up to be such scary figures in my head. Influential. Like they’re the reason I’m fucked in here," he taps the side of his head, and Phil's heart breaks, "that I still doubt sometimes that we made the right decision coming out.”

Phil’s quiet. They’ve never spoken at length about the bullying, though it’s been such a pervasive part of Dan’s life. He wants to go back and punch Jeff in the face, and any other hypocrite like him. Actually, he feels a tinge of sadness as well. At the way Jeff’s chosen outlet is anger instead of self-acceptance - a product of his upbringing, too. 

Dan continues, “And I hate them. I hate them, I hate them for what they’ve done. The way they’ve made me hate myself. But today. _Phil._ That was me getting the upper hand for once, being able to slay the demons.” Phil cuddles him closer. “And realising we're all just flaming queers at heart. That was great.”

“It _was_ ,” Phil agrees, matching Dan’s wide smile.

His heart will always hurt for Dan. The Dan of the past that had to struggle through adversity, and the Dan of the present who’s left with the scars. Phil can only promise to always be there for him, no matter what, as they slay the demons. One repressed homosexual at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> hope that was entertaining, at least? uhm kudos/comments are much appreciated. take care, everyone!
> 
> [reblog on tumblr [here](https://phanetixs.tumblr.com/post/619595562510073856/fic-just-tell-me-how-its-lookin-babe)]


End file.
